Triple Chocolate Mint Fudge Sundae
by Alsike
Summary: Deleted scenes and side stories from my Emma/Emily series. Includes the 'let's torture JJ' cycle, and other not-quite-smutty entries for the Citrus Taste Kink Table Challenge. No real spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

"Something's weird," said Emily, stopping short and then pacing a circle around Emma. "You look different."

"I really have no idea what you're talking about."

"No… there's something different about you." Emily's hands traced over her ass. "Yeah…" she crouched, her hands sliding down Emma's thighs and over her calves until she reached her feet. "You're wearing kitten heels!"

Emma blinked at her. "Yes?"

Emily sat back on her heels and looked up at her. "It changes your entire profile!"

"My… ass profile?" Emma grinned.

"What?" Emily scrunched her nose. "I'm a profiler. I notice things." She looked back at Emma's feet, lifting up the hems of the pant legs and scrutinizing her shoes. "Seriously, though. Why are you wearing kitten heels?"

"It's too hot for boots, and I find stiletto sandals rather trashy."

Emily snickered.

"What?" Emma asked dangerously

"Nothing! Nothing! I like them!" She tilted her head up and smiled. "I really like them."

"Yeah?" Emma ran her fingers through her hair. "How much?"

Emily proceeded to shuffle forward on her knees until she had backed Emma up against the wall. She unfastened her white jeans and tugged them inch-by-inch down her hips.

"I like them a lot."


	2. Let's Torture JJ 1: Vanilla

"Do you guys _ever _have normal sex?"

Emily raised an eyebrow at JJ's petulant expression. "You mean like vanilla? Because I think normal for you is going to have one more cock than it does for us."

JJ flushed. "I don't like calling it vanilla. It's my favorite kind of ice cream and it sounds derogatory."

"Well, if it's your favorite kind of sex too…" Emily grinned. "Or is it?"

JJ looked down. "I don't know. What counts as vanilla?"

"You're the one who asked if we ever had normal sex. What counts as normal for you?"

"It's not as if there's no variety. Will goes down on me, and sometimes I'm on top."

Emily considered this. "When you're on top what sort of things do you say?"

"What?" JJ squeaked.

"Well, if you say 'oh, your big cock feels so wonderful inside of me,' it means something different than if you say, 'hold still, you little bitch, while I fucking ride you to oblivion!'"

JJ gave her a terrified look. "I don't say either of those sort of things."

"Then it's vanilla."

JJ pouted. "Just because I don't talk dirty?"

"Do you talk at all?"

"Sometimes," JJ shrugged. "I mean, I used to do it more, tell him what to do and where to go, but he's pretty much got a handle on it now. We don't need to talk all the time."

"That's why they call it vanilla. It's simple. It's direct. It gets the job done. But it's not… decadent." Emily smiled, and then walked away down the hall.

JJ stared after her, a hot burning jealousy overtaking her flesh. She had never really wanted anything different than what she had, but there was something about the way Emily smiled when she said the word 'decadent' that made her unbelievably curious to find out what she meant.


	3. Let's Torture JJ 2: Good Advice

It was their third weekend out of town in a row. The case was nearly wrapped up, the UNSUB in custody, just a few loose ends to sort out and a good pile of paperwork that was luring no one toward the office.

The boys were having a pool table death-match, Rossi having bullied Hotch into forming a team with him, and utterly destroying Morgan's bluster and Reid's mathematical equations. Emily, JJ and Garcia (who had been allowed to come along because of a dump of locked hard-drives the local police had found) had claimed a table in the hotel bar and were supposed to be having a good time. But JJ was gloomily eyeing her vodka and cherry coke to such an extent that Garcia broke off in the middle of an almost Reid-like exegesis of the type of algorithms used to protect the unsub's incriminating files and asked her what was wrong.

"Jayj, why so glum? You didn't push to head back tonight, so I thought you wanted to hang out."

JJ shrugged. "I dunno. It just felt like there wasn't any point in getting back."

Emily leaned forward onto her hand. "We've been gone a lot. Your boys aren't missing you?"

JJ groaned and hung her head.

Garcia pursed her lips. "Baby girl, is your boy-toy not putting out?"

JJ's fist hit the table, causing their glasses to jump. "How do you do it?" She glared at Emily. "You _never_ see her! Will's only been on nights for a month, and I'm already…" her hands tightened and shook. "I have _needs_." She pouted. "I feel like I saw him more often when I had to fly to Louisiana!"

Emily's gaze slipped and met Garcia's smirk.

"I'm beginning to understand _why_ our baby girl got into her little predicament in the first place."

Emily snickered and JJ glared at her. "Oh come on. You've got to have a decent sex-drive to keep up with your whore of a girlfriend. What do you do when she's… in space, or wherever the fuck she is this week?"

Bolstered by Garcia's grin and hard liquor, Emily wiggled the fingers of her left hand.

"You had to ask, Jayj baby?" inquired Garcia.

JJ flushed. "That's… enough?

Emily and Garcia exchanged a glance.

"Usually," Emily said hesitantly. "It's just getting off. You don't need to make a production out of it."

"And if it's not," added Garcia. "You get to bring some of your pretty friends out to play."

If it were possible JJ turned even redder.

"I think our dear friend is not well versed in the art of self-pleasure."

Emily glanced over to the pool table. The boys were still happily occupied. This was good. If Morgan caught wind of this conversation, they would never get rid of him. She turned back to JJ. "But- how? You admitted that you have a pretty high sex-drive. How did you survive high school? College? Life?"

"I had _boyfriends_. I had a steady all through senior year, when my reputation was important. But once I was in college I had a new boy every three months, and if I didn't or he wasn't available I could go out to a party and pick someone up. It was _college;_ it wasn't _hard_."

Emily gaped at her.

"Oh, the curse of being beautiful," Garcia commented.

"And you don't have any incurable STDs?"

"_Emily!_"

"You call _Emma_ a whore?"

"She admitted as much! She _said_ she took her clothes off for money!"

"She was a _stripper_! Not the same thing!"

"Oh, _totally_ not that different!"

"She didn't just fuck anyone who made eyes at her in a bar!"

"I didn't have to wait for them to look at me! If I wanted them, they would go home with me! They still would!"

"Girls, girls," Garcia interjected. "If you don't want company, cool it down."

The boys were looking over curiously. Emily bit down on her response. JJ ducked her head.

"It wasn't like that after college, anyways. That's why I had to eff-ing fly to Louisiana to get some. But it was always on my schedule. I'm not sure if this monogamy thing is going to work out for me."

Emily gave her a look. "You want to cheat on him?"

"No!" JJ glared at her. "But if our schedules don't intersect soon, I am going to be really really unhappy."

"Jayj, vibrators were invented for women like you," said Garcia, shaking her head as if shocked that she hadn't worked it out before.

JJ cringed.

Emily nodded slowly. "You haven't tried them?"

JJ shook her head.

Emily glanced over at Garcia who nodded emphatically. "It's worth a shot."

"It's perfect," said Garcia, hearing no argument. "Sex toys save relationships. And they're much more convenient than hooking up. You're going on a trip? Just throw it in your bag. No need to go out, no messy clean up."

"No risk of unplanned pregnancies," Emily muttered. JJ glared at her again.

"Fuck you, Emily."

"I don't hear you rushing home to be with your son," Emily snapped back.

"Yeah," JJ grimaced. "My mom's looking after him. If I rush home I have to deal with her interrogation about why we haven't started thinking about giving Henry a little brother or sister. 'If they're more than four years apart, they won't be _close_,'" she imitated her mother. "Somehow she forgot that I don't even _speak_ to my sister who's the closest in age to me."

Both Emily and Garcia were quiet. JJ bit her lip. She still wasn't used to being the only one with surviving parents at the table.

* * *

An unexpected lull in the day had JJ with nothing to do. She opened her Internet browser and started checking her email.

Will was going to be working tonight again, she remembered. Maybe if she went home right after work… but her mother was still there. It would be awkward. She would _know_. She always knew that sort of thing.

Absently she typed a search word into Google and clicked on the first link.

Her jaw dropped.

No way, just no way. She minimized the window and tried to look busy.

The boring paperwork she had left wasn't distracting her, so she glanced back to the screen and opened the window again. And she stared. She wasn't going to get one (some of them were _expensive_) but what would it hurt to look? She wasn't embarrassed about liking sex. This was just… a different part of the same area.

She squirmed slightly in her chair. Okay, the basic ones were pretty boring, but these… She bit her lip. If she got one that was bigger than Will, would that be more like cheating than one that was a different shape? She winced, 'if she got one?' She wasn't totally sure she could bring herself to order one, even online. What if the postman…

"Thinking of taking our advice?" Emily was standing in the doorway to her office, and grinning at her.

"How-" JJ gaped. "How did you even-"

"You should see your face."

JJ knew she had turned bright red. Emily sidled over to her desk and glanced at the computer screen. She nodded.

"Having a look round?"

"Um, yeah." JJ inched away from her. It was probably unfair, but she had felt a lot more comfortable around Emily before she had been smacked in the face by her sex life.

"Here." Emily set a cardboard box on her desk, packed with brown paper tape. JJ stared at it in something akin to horror. "I'm sorry for calling you a whore."

"It's all right," JJ replied weakly. "I think I did it first."

Emily headed towards the door. She stopped on the threshold and glanced back, cocking her head. "Try it," she said with a grin. "Garcia and I are expecting full coverage."


	4. Let's Torture JJ 3: Kind of Tame

"What are those?" asked JJ as she picked up the smooth metal hoops that had clattered to the floor as Emily picked up her jacket in the locker room. She inspected them carefully. The ends weren't conjoined, but stood up from the curve at an angle. A little screw that winched them closer was attached to them. Emily went white.

"Nothing!" she yelped and groped for them. JJ closed her hand and pulled them away.

"Oh no. You're not getting these back until you tell me what they are!"

Emily grimaced. "You really don't want to know, Jayj."

JJ stuck her hands on her hip. "I think I do."

Emily shook her head. "You hate it when I talk about that stuff."

"Oh come on. They can't be sex toys!"

Emily bit her lip. JJ opened her hand and stared at the hoops with a look of horror. She closed her fist and stiffly gave them back. Emily slipped them into her pocket with a shake of her head. "I shouldn't have taken them off," she muttered, and left.

JJ shook and tried to recover her equanimity before following.

---

"I can't take it anymore!" JJ yelled at Emily out of the blue, scaring her enough to make her drop the file she was holding. "My mind is going crazy! What are they? Nipple clamps? Clit clamps? Some horrible piercing rings? Electroshock conductors?"

Emily gaped. "They're washers, for the shower head. There was… an incident and I had to take them off. But the whole thing fell apart, so I need to get a few more from the hardware store."

"What?" JJ stared at her in shock. "But you- you…"

"Hello Jennifer," Emma purred. "Looking after my darling for me?"

JJ yelped in surprise. Emma always snuck up on her (and sometimes grabbed her ass) but she was never prepared. She looked between them, Emma's unreadable smirk, Emily's apologetic poker face. She felt like crying with frustration, but she knew she wasn't getting an answer. She turned and marched out.

Emma slipped an arm around Emily's shoulders and guided her toward the bathroom.

Once inside she held out her hand. Emily plunked the washers into her palm.

"I told you not to take them off."

"I'm at work!" Emily hissed.

"And would they not have created less of a disturbance if you had left them on?"

Emily shrugged unhappily.

"Now you get to wear them home."

"_Emma._"

"Shirt."

Emily tugged her shirt up and Emma popped one of the rings into her mouth until it was warm and wet. Then she tugged the cup of Emily's bra down until the nipple was visible, set the ring around it and tightened. Emily bit her lip, but couldn't stop her body from responding to the warm wet metal. Emma licked the lip tantalizingly.

"Emma, I'm at work."

"You're off duty." She held the other under cold running water and then tightened it around her nipple a little more forcefully. Emily let out a gasp like a breathless keen. "Anyway. You took them _off_. I'm not about to put out _now."_

Emily leaned in, her shirt still hiked up over her breasts, the metal and her tight nipples making a clear outline against her bra cups, and rubbed against Emma. Then she caught her earlobe with her tongue and bit down on it gently.

Emma's fingers wound in her hair. "I have made you such a dirty girl."

"I always was one," Emily murmured against her with a grin. "You're just the first one who wanted me to let it out."


	5. The Waterfall Strainers

"_Emma_…"

"No." Emma flashed her an irritated look. "If you won't listen to me, I won't continue having this conversation. I'm going to bed."

She left the room and in a moment Emily could hear the shower running. Emily sank her head into her hands. She hadn't meant to fight over it, but there was only so long you could put up with the pressure and be gentle and forgiving as well. But they were both tired. Emma couldn't say that she was the only one who was exhausted and overwhelmed from chasing some weird alien monster through Chicago. She didn't have to try and explain it to the parents of the children it had eaten. Emily was too tired to deal with the "you should quit your job and be my love slave," argument. It was getting more and more tempting, but the answer was still going to be "no."

Emily stood up and shook off her exhaustion. It was time to play dirty. Emma always played dirty, and she learned from the best. She stripped and walked into the bathroom, pulling a robe over her shoulders.

"Go away," Emma mumbled from behind the curtain. Emily decided not to mention that it was actually _her_ hotel room, and just opened the curtain. She stepped back and took a long look at Emma, naked and wet, bruises marring her pale skin.

Emma glared at her. "What the fuck do you want?" Her eyes were red.

"I want you to shut up," Emily said harshly, and Emma blinked in surprise.

"What?"

"Shut-up and get on your knees."

Emma's jaw went slack, and then she gave a slow, wicked smile. "You want _me_ on my knees?"

"I want you to shut up." Emily let the robe drop to the floor. "If I have to gag you, I will."

"But it's no fun if I can't use my mouth."

"Just get down!" Emily grabbed her shoulder and pushed. Emma resisted for a moment, just to show she could, and then dropped compliantly onto the bottom of the tub. Emily stepped in, the spray brushing her shins. She moved forward, guiding Emma back, until the spray moved up to her thighs and her stomach. She pressed against Emma's chin, and the kneeling woman snapped at her fingers.

Emily buried her fist in her hair and jerked down sharply. Emma's head tipped back and the water hit her face and ran down it in waves. It hurt, the strain was visible on her face, but she didn't fight back, she didn't turn diamond. Emily kept her fingers twined tightly in the mass of hair, kept the reins on, and kissed her.

* * *

"What is it?" Emily was in a bathrobe, toweling her wet hair, when she answered the knocking and shouting at her door. She seemed slightly unfocused and a little shaky (very waterlogged), and Morgan surreptitiously pulled his cell phone out of his pocket.

"We…" Reid eyed her curiously. "We were worried. Your shower's been on for the past three hours."

Morgan just stared, his jaw hanging open.

"Oh," Emily frowned. "I didn't realize it had been that long."

Reid waved his hands. "Not a big deal. Just… looking out for water shortages, you know."

"Thanks." Emily gave him an odd look. The door clicked shut.

Reid turned to Morgan. "Did she look…"

"Well-fucked?" Morgan filled in with a lecherous grin.

Reid frowned. "I was going to say exhausted."

Morgan flipped open his phone and showed Reid the photo. "This, my man, is going up on My MySpace page, with 'Well-Fucked' as a caption, immediamente."

Reid still seemed dissatisfied. "I thought the X-Men went home."

Morgan patted Reid on the back as they started down the hall back to their rooms. "You're forgetting, young grasshopper. Prentiss' girlfriend – has a private jet."


	6. Waterproof

Emily coughed.

Emma stopped what she was saying and stared at the receiver. "Are you _sick_?" she asked with a tone that implied disgust more than anything else.

"I'm fine, I have a cold."

"Why are you sick? You don't take care of yourself at _all_ do you?"

"Emma…"

Her voice sounded strained, and Emma cursed herself for not noticing it sooner. "This is not okay." She hated thinking about Emily being sick, hated picturing her ghost-pale face and hollow eyes, hated knowing that she'd push herself too hard, that she didn't know when to quit and just look after herself. (She hated herself for not being able to drop everything to take care of her, and for being paranoid and needy and desperate, like only Emily could make her.) "You being sick is not okay. It's your fucking job. What did they have you do this time? Stand out in the rain while-"

"Emma! Cut it out!" She stopped abruptly, coughed again, and sighed. "I don't need to hear this now."

Emma's mouth tightened, but when the dial tone was the only thing that greeted her disapproval, she didn't know what to do.

---

"Did you make her work while she was sick?" Emma snapped at Garcia when she picked up the phone.

Garcia was somehow never fazed by this sort of beginning to a conversation. "No. She showed up, but Hotch took one look at her and put her on desk duty. When she started coughing he kicked her out to go to the doctor. Bronchitis."

"I knew she was sick. I knew she wouldn't stay home."

"Have you considered apologizing?"

Emma paused. "What makes you think we had a fight?"

"Babes, when my girl is looking more glum than a measly case of bronchitis deserves, and you call me to check up on her, I _know_ you've had a fight."

---

It was raining when she landed in Dulles, and she ignored the driver's efforts with the umbrella as she stalked out to the car.

It had taken _forever_, having to finish her last class, pray for no emergencies, and then the _travel._

The moment the car pulled up in front of Emily's apartment building, she knew she wasn't there, but she buzzed up anyway, while she considered her next move. Nothing. She closed her eyes and reached out.

"The Mall," she said to the driver, who stared in a rather horrified manner at her disregard for her damp appearance.

The Lincoln Monument was not accessible by car. She walked through the rain as it intensified. She could feel her target getting closer. She started to run.

"Why the fuck do you do this to me?"

Emily was standing under the overhang, by the Roosevelt Memorial, looking out on the Potomac River. She was bundled up in a heavy coat, but still looked pale and cold. A drenched Emma charged up the path toward her and was suddenly embracing her.

Emily turned into her and held her back. "I felt you coming."

Hot breath hit cool cheeks, and then they were kissing, sharing the precious warmth they held inside.

"You're all wet," said Emily, still snuggled into the curve of her body.

"Why aren't you at home in bed?"

"I was feeling better." She shrugged. "And had a little cabin fever. Hotch won't let me go back to work until Monday."

"You're such an idiot."

Emily gave her a look. "I'm not the one who is drenched to the bone from running around the country searching for me."

"It's alright," Emma said, pressing her cheek against her hair. "I'm waterproof."

They stood there, like that, for a few minutes. Then Emma sneezed.

Emily shook her head. "The rain's letting up a bit. I need to take you home and put you in the shower."

Emma looked out over the river. The rain was clearing up and a few clouds had parted, letting in a few rays of late afternoon sunshine.

"I'm all right," she said. "If you want to stay a little bit longer."


	7. Absence

Emma hated this alien crap. The green-haired SWORD Agent was rivaling her position as chief bitch. Scott was clearly going off the deep end, suggesting plans where he would die and rely on being brought back to life by his mortal enemies. Hank was thinking with his blue furry penis. And Logan was weirdly obsessed with that Japanese student who had stowed away. (It was his parenting mode, she recognized. The girl reminded them both of Jubilee. Logan tended to challenge the students he liked. Emma did too, but not when they were on a different planet in the middle of a genocidal war.)

Kitty had finally lost her virginity. (What was she, twenty-four? It just went to show that growing up with superheroes was not as libidinous an environment as some made it seem.) Emma considered throwing her a party, but it wouldn't be taken well.

Either way. After a long argument about the morality of genocide (was voluntary genocide really like voluntary euthanasia?), they inadvertently destroyed the Breakworld anyway, and coupled off on the way home.

That meant Hank went with Agent Brand, Kitty was somewhere snuggling repulsively with Piotr, Logan was instructing Hisako in something inappropriate like beer-drinking or peeing in the woods, and Emma was left with Scott.

With all the innuendo about Hank's big penis and Agent Brand's exotic alien genitalia, it took a vast amount of self-control not to peek. And this was a type of self-control that Emma didn't have. Unfortunately, watching only made her horny (and amused), and they were still a good six hours from earth.

And she wouldn't use Scott.

There was a time when she had thought it might be worth it, that his power or his status were hers for the taking. But she had to be careful. Rules that worked in the Hellfire club didn't work with the X-men. (Mainly because the X-men were lying, selfish, hypocrites, particularly when it came to sex.)

If she had been on earth she would have gone to see Emily. She had gotten used to Emma showing up out of the blue. She didn't even have to make up excuses anymore. Emily just took one look and would start taking her shirt off. (This was actually rather mystifying. No one else Emma had ever been with had been able to read 'I want to fuck you' off of her face with out her explicitly intending to put it there.)

Emma walked up behind a slimy orange alien SWORD agent and tapped him on the shoulder. "What are the communications capabilities of this ship?"

He looked surprised and replied in some garbled incomprehensible tongue, but his mind was as clear as any human's. Emma smiled, thanked him, and retreated to the narrow cubicle that served as the guest bunk. (She was pretty sure that they had been quickly modified from holding cells.)

She found the adaptor he had thought of and plugged in her cellphone.

"What? What's going on?"

"Hello, Emily."

There was a long pause. "Emma? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Emma considered this. "No. Not at all. I'm in space."

"It's 4:15, in the morning. I'm in Colorado. What's wrong?"

"Mmm," any comment about inadvertent genocide and suchlike would get the conversation onto the wrong track. "Nothing. What are you wearing?"

"… What?" Emily sounded completely at a loss.

"Just tell me you're naked. Things go more quickly that way."

Emily laughed. "You're calling me from space for _phone sex_?"

"If I say yes can we get moving?" Emily was probably smiling and shaking her head. Emma's hand absently unfastened her pants.

"Umm," She could hear Emily smiling awkwardly, 'I don't know how to do this,' written on her face. "I had trouble with the heater, so I'm only in my underwear and a tank top."

"White?"

"Yeah."

"Can I see your nipples through it?"

"Um… now you can."

Emma chuckled, leaning back into the bunk. "Touch them."

"Oookay… You too."

"Don't worry." Emma let a smile drift onto her face as she closed her eyes. "I'm as good as there."


End file.
